


Almost Accidental

by ObsessedFandomNerd



Category: Ballerina | Leap! (2016)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Light Smut, Louis Mérante is one dapper man with very nice clothes, Nudity, Partial Nudity, Relationship(s), Spice, Spicey, Strip Tease, Stripping, Undressing, that totally don't look so much better on the floor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedFandomNerd/pseuds/ObsessedFandomNerd
Summary: How, Odette wondered, had it all come to this?Or, Odette finds herself watching Louis Mérante strip down from his closet.
Relationships: Louis Mérante/Odette
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Almost Accidental

**Author's Note:**

> I got an idea and I ran with it. Hope you enjoy it! :)

How, Odette wondered, had it all come to this? She had entered his office at the Ballet to clean it as she did every day. Sweep the floor, dust the shelves, polish the desk, check the closet for moths, then leave.

Only this time, she didn’t get to the leaving. She had heard his footsteps coming up the hall - that distinctive pattern of tap-tip-tap tip-tap tip-tap-tap - and thought that it’d be a fun idea to surprise him. Why, oh why, did she _have_ to hide in the closet!?

The closet door has just closed when she heard the door to the room open. She peered through the crack between the doors, poised to leap out the instant Louis turned his back.

That’s when she saw it. The massive glob of white paint splattered all over his chest and dripping onto his pants and shoes. The janitor entered after him.

“I’m so sorry, Monsieur Mérante.” The janitor meekly proffered a handkerchief.

Mérante snatched it from his hand. He futilely dabbed at the quickly drying paint.

“Of all the days to refurbish a mural! I have an important dinner in an hour.”

He stopped dabbing and threw the handkerchief back at the janitor.

“Again, so sorry Monsieur Mérante. If there’s anything I can do-”

“Next time put the buckets of paint somewhere where they may be seen instead of at the bottom on the stairs. While you’re at it, go find Odette. She’s the only woman in Paris who could get these stains out in under an hour.”

He smiled in an odd way as he spoke. His eyes momentarily flicked toward the closet; she recoiled from the doors. He shrugged off his jacket then turned to the janitor once more.

“Is there a reason you are still standing there?”

“Oh! Yes, sir. Right away!”

With that, the greasy old man scuttled off. Mérante closed the door after him. Then he moved to the center of the room and began unbuttoning his vest.

Now here Odette was, actively watching him disrobe. As much as she wanted to pry her gaze away, cease her staring as she knew a proper lady should, she simply couldn’t.

He unbuttoned his vest slowly, starting from the bottom and working his way up. She noted the way his fingers nimbly slipped each gold piece through its hole with a soft caress. When he was done, he slipped the elegant red garment from his shoulders with a slow, refined shrug. He tossed it on top of his discarded jacket.

His nimble, lean fingers worked at his cravat next. He pulled it off with one hand while the other came up to rub his neck. He rolled his shoulders and neck with a satisfying crack. He let out a deep, throaty sigh through pressed lips. Odette felt her stomach jump and a tingly feeling settle nearby.

Once again, his magnificent fingers went to his buttons. This time he started at the top. He undid the button at his throat and pulled out the collar with another deep, melodious sigh. Although this one sounded more like a moan. Odette’s stomach jumped again. He unbuttoned the shirt all the way to the waist of his pants. She fought the urge to sigh aloud at the sight of his pale skin peeking through the split in the fabric. Then he turned, untucked his shirt and, almost dramatically, let the crisp, white cotton slip from his shoulders and down his arms.

He flexed his shoulders as Odette looked on with delight. She was fixated by the way his sculpted, lean features moved in the soft light of the gas lamps. His skin had an almost ethereal glow to it. As he turned, she thought she caught a glimpse of a smirk playing on his lips. Was he always this seductive when he undressed? Secretly, she hoped so.

He moved across the room and pulled the chair from the desk to the center of the room. He sat down and untied the laces of his perfectly shined dress shoes. He pulled each one off and set them beside the chair. Then he stood up.

Odette’s breath caught in her throat. The elegant black trousers were as soiled as the rest of his clothes. She gripped her cane harder. Louis trailed his fingers over his abdomen in a sort of scratching motion. She wondered idly what it would be like if her hand was in place of his...

He slowly dragged his hand to the singular clasp that held his pants shut. With a swift maneuver of his thumb and forefinger, the clasp came undone. He shifted his hands to either side of his waist. Odette’s grip on her cane tightened again.

His thumbs hooked beneath the dark cloth and, with one sensual shimmy, they came off. He tossed them with the other soiled items.

From her place in the closet, Odette admired his sculpted dancer’s legs, lean, hard, and muscular from years of rigorous fouéttes and meticulous performances. She wondered what he would think of her scarred and discolored legs. Her eyes fell, but his next action brought them right back up to attention.

Again, he turned and hooked his thumbs under the fabric at his waist. Slowly, or so it seemed to her, he pulled the white cotton undergarment down his hips. He stepped out of them and flexed his back.

Odette’s eyes grew wider than they had ever been before. His rear was as toned and sculpted as the rest of him and twice as pronounced. The dimple sat proudly at the top. So much so that it seemed to be begging to be touched. She mindlessly reached her hand forward only to be met with the cold wood of the door. She drew her hand back with a nearly inaudible sigh.

Outside, Mérante laughed a low chuckle that caused her abdomen to tingle once more. For a moment, she stupidly considered opening the door. He cast a sideways glance over his shoulder and smirked.

“I’m going to need the extra suit behind you.”

Shocked, Odette stumbled backwards into the exact clothes he had mentioned. Louis bent down and pulled up his underwear. Then he proceeded to walk right up to her not-so-secret hiding place and opened the doors. She stood frozen as he smirked at her. He held out a hand which she gingerly took. He helped her out of the closet and walked her to the door.

“What about your clothes? Don’t you need me to wash them?” she managed to stutter out.

He chuckled.

“My dear Odette, do I really need them washed when I have a second set in the closet, hm?”

Her eyes widened as she realized. He kissed her cheek from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders. Then he whispered in her ear,

“If you’d like to see more I have no classes tomorrow. I’ll just be in here idly passing my time with formalities.” He kissed her cheek again and opened the door for her. “Have a wonderful evening. Give my regards to Felicié.”

He moved to close the door.

“Louis!” she called. He opened it a crack. “I should be done cleaning by about 9:30.”

He smirked. “I look forward to seeing you.”

With that he closed the door. Odette picked up her pail and hobbled down the hallway. Delighted, she thought, how had it come to this?


End file.
